The Landmine Detonates
"Backup! Is the backup file safe?" Gates, his face as red as a burst tomato, demanded urgently. But no one in the Alpha Lab—not the team leader, not a single team member—answered.
"Hey! James! Is the backup file safe? When was the most recent one?" When Gates received no reply, Steve pointed directly at the team leader and pressed the question.
"Uh, Vice President, well, you see, we've been working a lot of overtime lately and..."
"James! When was the most recent backup?" Steve cut off James's rambling excuses and pressed harder.
James, whose youthful face was buried beneath an orange beard, squeezed his eyes shut and answered. "June 3rd."
"What? June 3rd?" That was nearly a month ago.
Microsoft's development lab policy called for daily backups, and critical code was to be saved to both the hard disk and floppy disks simultaneously. Not satisfied with that, they had set up a dedicated server for automatic backups. Yet even that special server had been rendered useless by an attack of unknown origin.
If the server had been running Unix, Yoo Jae-won's attack would have fizzled out as expected. But Microsoft harbored ambitions of dominating the server market as well, and that ambition had led to the Windows NT project. Alpha Lab's backup server was a high-performance PC they had assembled themselves, running a prototype version of Windows NT. Of course, the prototype NT system was only meant to handle simple backups. The real servers powering Microsoft's internal network ran Unix.
Even as a prototype, the backup function had worked perfectly until yesterday. But a critical flaw in the prototype had caused disaster: DOS compatibility mode. Because Microsoft placed such importance on backward compatibility, the prototype had kept DOS compatibility mode enabled. Thanks to that, Yoo Jae-won's landmine—designed for DOS—had performed its function flawlessly.
In the end, the only surviving backup files were the physically separated ones copied to floppy disks. And those dated back to June—a full month earlier. With an enormous volume of design and coding happening every single day, a month-old backup was ancient history.
"Well... lately we've had reverse-engineering work on ID Office, finalizing DOS 4.0, basic coding for Windows 3.0, and all sorts of other tasks piled on..." James attempted to explain.
Alpha Lab's original mission had been designing and building Windows 3.0. Then suddenly they were ordered to reverse-engineer ID Office and overhaul DOS 4.0's memory management system. On top of that, the Ethernet-connected server had been so convenient, and their own NT operating system had seemed to run well enough, that the old rule about floppy backups had grown hazy. Besides, floppy backups were supposed to be done at the end of the workday—and James hadn't left the office on time once in the past month.
"We don't need excuses!" The response to James's attempt was a volcanic roar. "You're all fired!"
Gates, his rage boiling over, shouted the catchphrase. It wasn't an ordinary expression. It was the line that had turned a businessman who had briefly appeared on a TV show into the President of the United States. Unlike the crisp, satisfying delivery of the original, Gates's trembling "You're fired!" was raw and furious.
Even Steve, normally cautious and employee-friendly, couldn't bring himself to stop Gates this time. An entire month's worth of work had been rendered worthless. His disappointment and anger toward James and the team were so great that he made no move to intervene.
Yoo Jae-won's landmine had wiped out not only a month's worth of Microsoft work, but the entire elite Alpha Lab development team as well. It was as if God Himself had answered Yoo Jae-won's prayer to perfection.
A few days later.
—Microsoft has been in quite an uproar lately.
"Oh? Tell me more."
—They disbanded an entire development team. And not just any team—this was their most elite group, with seven or eight years of experience each. Thirty people, the biggest and best development team Microsoft had. All of them fired.
It was 6 a.m. Korean time. This was the hour when Yoo Jae-won occasionally received reports from Remington about the situation in Silicon Valley. Today, however, the report concerned Redmond, Seattle—far to the north of Silicon Valley.
From what he was hearing, the landmine he had planted had gone off exactly as intended. For an entire development team to be completely disbanded, the splash damage must have been enormous. It was deeply satisfying. The thought of the chaos at Microsoft felt both sweet and savory. Yet Yoo Jae-won felt no concern about the aftermath. Reverse-engineering had been illegal from the start. If Microsoft tried to protest, they would be admitting their own illegal activities. Even a company that treated the law lightly wouldn't be foolish enough to publicly expose its own crimes.
"By the way, Silicon Valley to Seattle is quite a distance. How do you know the details so well?"
—Ahem! At Yoo Jae-won's question, Remington puffed up with pride. —I may not look it, but I used to operate as a nationwide detective. I still have informants—cuckoos, if you will—in all the major cities.
"Ah, I see." Informants. That was an intriguing thought. Thanks to Remington's network, Yoo Jae-won could now sit comfortably in his room in Deokjin-ri and monitor the situation at Microsoft's headquarters.
"This isn't an official operation, is it?"
—Ah, no. It's just based on old connections and favors.
"Then how about we make it official this time? Hire the informants you consider most capable and have them collect and send information regularly."
—Oh! Are you serious? Remington's delighted expression was easy to imagine. In reality, the man holding the phone in the Silicon Valley office had his mouth hanging open like a basin. After all, this meant creating good jobs for old friends who, like him, had found themselves out of work.
"We can't just expand it recklessly, though. There's a budget to consider. And I'm not asking you to do detective work—information on the IT industry centered around Silicon Valley is enough. Like the Microsoft situation this time, or tracking the latest technology, or locating specific items we need."
—Of course. No problem at all. Remington answered promptly. Though he called himself a former nationwide detective, that didn't mean he had informants planted in every American city. There weren't many he could truly trust, so following Yoo Jae-won's instructions wouldn't be difficult.
"Ah, and there's a slight modification needed for ID Office. We've found a way to counter the obstacle Microsoft announced. Tell Rogers to get the development team back into work mode. Oh, and if any of the developers fired in Redmond seem worth scouting, bring them on board."
The landmine had exploded far more effectively than expected. It had even led to the disbanding of a Microsoft development team. Yoo Jae-won found himself coveting those talented developers.
—Understood, Boss. Have a good day!
After ending the call with Remington, Yoo Jae-won began his day with a light heart.
Yoo Jae-won's house was lively for the first time in a while. His parents, who had no schedule that day, were home, and two people from Korea Telecom had arrived to install the ISDN modem. With Yoo Jae-won also present, the small house was bustling with five people.
The visitors from Korea Telecom weren't ordinary employees—they were researchers from the Advanced Telecommunications Technology Lab. In the 21st century, network installation work would be outsourced, but right now it was cutting-edge technology that required ironclad security. At first, they hadn't understood why they had to travel all the way to the shabby rural village of Deokjin-ri. But after arriving, they sensed something was different.
It had rained the night before, so any ordinary rural road would have been muddy. Yet Deokjin-ri had well-paved roads that remained clean. Even the drainage ditches along the roads were neatly maintained, allowing water to flow freely without pooling. Only after reaching the house in the heart of the village did the researchers finally understand their superiors' orders.
After school, Yoo Jae-won had rushed straight home to wait for them. The moment they saw him, they recognized him immediately—after all, they worked with information and communications technology and computers. They also knew him from KETEL, the PC communication service, where he had helped countless people with programming skills far beyond those of an average expert. One of the two had even received help from Yoo Jae-won personally.
"Uncle, were you Marine Boy?"
The researcher using the simple handle "Marine Boy" was Choo Myeong-seok, a man in his mid-thirties. The origin of his ID was straightforward—he had served in the Marine Corps.
"Yeah. And you were Indi?"
Yoo Jae-won used the similarly straightforward handle "InfiniteDream." Even in the present day, people on KETEL shortened his ID to "Indi" by taking the first letters—apparently the habit of abbreviating words when typing long messages wasn't limited to the future.
"Thanks for last time. Thanks to you, the speed improvement was huge."
The know-how Yoo Jae-won had shared was a method for improving internet speed. As a researcher handling the latest communication technology, Choo Myeong-seok naturally knew how to use the internet. But whenever he connected, download speeds were slower than expected. The default settings had been configured for maximum stability, packing far more error-detection data into each packet. Reducing that error-detection data and maximizing space for actual data made internet speeds noticeably faster. While it couldn't exceed the modem's physical speed limit, the improvement was meaningful.
Choo Myeong-seok had not only changed his own computer's settings but also those in the lab, earning high praise from his superiors. As a result, his goodwill toward Yoo Jae-won was considerable.
The other researcher was Lee Jae-jeong, roughly the same age as Choo Myeong-seok. Their appearances were similar too—long hair covering their ears and thick horn-rimmed glasses. Staring at small CRT monitor screens all day inevitably damaged their eyesight. Seeing the two men in glasses, Yoo Jae-won resolved to be more careful himself. Even though he had placed protective screens on his monitors, he would make sure to do eye exercises regularly while programming so he wouldn't need glasses.
"Is that the computer we're installing on?"
There were two computers in the small house. One was the 286 his parents had bought him. The other was the latest model Yoo Jae-won had built by adding parts to the chassis Intel had sent him. The size difference was dramatic. Unlike the 286's desktop case and small monitor, the Intel machine was an enormous big-tower case with a 14-inch monitor. It was even connected to bookshelf monitor speakers and an amplifier. Overall, it was easily twice the size.
Choo Myeong-seok pointed at the large computer and asked. Yoo Jae-won nodded. The two researchers immediately began the ISDN installation. Since they were using a telephone line rather than a dedicated line, no complicated cable-laying work was needed. They simply split the incoming telephone line into two—one for the phone, one for the ISDN modem. After plugging in the adapter to power the modem and connecting the modem to the computer via Ethernet card, the hardware setup was complete.
"Let's try booting it up, then."
At Lee Jae-jeong's words, Yoo Jae-won powered on the work computer. There was a specific order to booting: monitor first, then the computer case, then the amplifier, and finally the speakers. Because each component needed its own power connection, he had bought a six-outlet power strip. Thanks to that, electrical work had been done on the house during the village construction. Not only had the wiring in Yoo Jae-won's house been upgraded to thicker cables for stable high-power supply, but the entire village's electrical lines had been replaced as part of village welfare. This eliminated the risk of electric shock from poorly taped wires or fires caused by short circuits.
"Whoa! It's a 486!"
"Huh? Really?"
The two researchers were shocked when they saw the BIOS POST screen during boot. The text clearly displayed "i486-DX33." When the memory test showed 4,096 KB, they looked ready to faint. After all, even their own computers—used for cutting-edge telecommunications research—were only 386s with a mere 1 MB of memory. They never expected to find a 486 here, a model not even officially released in Korea yet.
"Intel sent it for me to try out first."
Yoo Jae-won's casual tone only made the two researchers more impressed.
"Should we try connecting to KETEL first?"
KETEL was currently the only official PC communication service, and the only one that supported ISDN digital connections.
"Huh? The program looks different."
Normally, KETEL connections used terminal programs made by modem manufacturers. But Yoo Jae-won had done something different. He had written his own simple terminal connection program in C, added Korean language support, and implemented the latest protocols like Zmodem. The two researchers looked bewildered by the unfamiliar program. But when Yoo Jae-won opened the settings screen himself, they saw familiar environment variables. From there, they could set the speed and choose protocols.
All settings were complete. Now came the real test. Gathered in front of the computer, they immediately dialed the ISDN dedicated number and attempted to connect.